


Are you there, little lamb?

by TheLibraryLives



Category: League of Legends
Genre: I don't even play league, I'm just here for the lore, No beta because we do this for the lulz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLibraryLives/pseuds/TheLibraryLives
Summary: In the streets of Zaun, a woman has an encounter with the Wolf.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Are you there, little lamb?

**Author's Note:**

> So I had a dream, which became a short story, which may be extended or not. It's a real wishy washy thing right now, but I can't keep saving all my storied on my google drive, there's not enough space. TW: attempted assault, blood I guess?

It is dark. That is her first mistake. The sun never truly reaches Zaun, but at night even veteran sumprats make wrong turns. She trips over an uneven stone, pitching forward, and she realizes her second mistake: always have one hand free. 

She falls painfully and her materials clatter around her. Pneuma-coils and hex adapters glint off into the darkness. Trying to beat the sneakthiefs that linger at every corner, she chases after them, but she is alone. Mistake number three.

Every Zaunite grows up on stories of the alley boggarts. They wait for solitary children to wander into their darkened streets and they are never seen from again. As an adult, she knows the real boggarts - chem barons, traffickers, thugs. There are no spirits in the streets of Zaun, just men.

Her eyes squint in the dark. She paid a full hex for those materials - the final pieces to complete her smog skimmer and her ticket up. But only if she could find them.

“Need a hand lil’ lady?”

She discreetly curls a hand over a large screw, before rising to face the visitor. He is a lanky man, but he is a lanky man with a big knife. She knows better than to take her chances.

“I’m quite alright, thank you.” Friendly, but not inviting.

“I don’t know, those cogs of yours still seem to be scattered about.” He waves the knife casually. Technically, not a threat.

“I can pick them up.” He frowns and she rushes on. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Oh it’s no inconvenience at all.” He stoops.

She sprints. 

She is not fast enough. He lunges and knicks her with his blade. It is not a deep cut but the stinging pain makes her wince. Makes her slow. And that is all he needs. He throws her against a wall. She swings, screw between her knuckles.

“Aw, fuck!” He hisses. A fresh gash weeps from his chin, but either he’s augmented or he’s too angry to care. He shoves her against the wall again, this time with a knife under her chin.

“All I wanted was your scrap, you stupid bitch! And you just had to make it harder for me, huh?” The knife presses harder into her skin. She is going to die. She knows it.

The sound of a howl cuts through the air and suddenly there is blood. So much blood. It soaks her clothes, sticks to her skin. It’s not hers.

Her mother was not a native Zaunite. She came from Ionia, a place full of trees and sky and clean air. She remembers sitting on her mothers knee hearing about the great wolf that carries men off into that final night, and his gentle companion, the lamb. One of a thousand pretty fairy tales. Of course, this is the one that happens to be true.

The Wolf is before her, tearing and pulling at his prey, massive glowing cylinders casting a deathly yellow pall on the alleyway.  _ Perhaps I can slip away, _ she thinks. The Wolf hasn’t seen her yet.

She didn’t make a sound. She knows she didn’t. But the Wolf turns it’s head immediately. As she faces down it’s glowing eyes, she remembers. The Wolf only hunts those who run. Perhaps she can meet the Lamb instead.

It’s a desperate gambit, but her only option. She takes a deep breath, trying to collect

“Dear wolf, are you all alone?” The Wolf pauses mid-growl, ears twitching wildly. But it does not pounce. Emboldened, she continues. “Where is the Lamb?”

It makes a strange choking sound. Belatedly, she realizes it is trying to talk. The rest of the words are unclear, but she recognizes some.

“No...lamb...wolf...alone.”

“I’m sorry dear wolf. Have you always been alone?”

“...not...always…” The cylinders are dimming now, no longer an aggravated yellow. She might make it out of this alive.

“Why did Lamb leave you?”

“I...don’t remember.” The Wolf blinks, yellow eyes dimming. They still flash, but without that eerie light. They refocus and she wonders if maybe it's only truly seeing her now. 

“You’re still alive,” it growls. The words are clearer now, more conscious.

She smiles. “Sorry to disappoint, dear wolf.”

Suddenly the Wolf lunges. She does not flinch. She  _ can’t. _ She needs to wait for the Lamb. The Wolf towers over her, searching for something. Eventually, it steps back.

“Stupid girl,” it scoffs. With a howl, the Wolf leaps back into the darkness. She tries to track the glow of it’s cylinders but it disappears quickly into the tumultuous sprawl of Zaun.

She doesn’t realize her final mistake until she’s back in the safety of her bed:

The Wolf is  _ never  _ without the Lamb.


End file.
